Standard disclaimers still apply.
Don't you wish your girlfriend was... uh- hrrhrmm... The title sort of says it all. Enjoy.
Alien
Robin had been told before that he was reckless, and that one fateful day it would come back to bite him when he least expected it.
He had no doubt this was so. He was a superhero; you'd have to be reckless – or slightly insane – to put your life on the line as frequent as he and his team did. A little insanity wasn't bad either; that way there was a lot more congruence between the things that went on at the job and in one's mind.
The Titans were currently in orbit around a desert planet very far away from home, most of them asleep in their separate cockpits. Tomorrow they were going down for a frontal assault on a heavily fortified prison manned by humongous, fiber-plated hexapods and break out a diplomat the United Nations had sent with recently implemented space-travel technologies.
It had been a rash policy to say the least, if well-intended.
Robin knew he should be asleep so as to be rested by the time the operation began, but had already slept through most of the journey, and his habitual insomnia further threw his biorhythm off. Most of the others had no such problems: Cyborg had simply shut his systems down, Beast Boy turned into a koala, and even Raven had somehow managed, despite requiring the second least amount of sleep on the team. This left Starfire and Robin awake in spite of their best efforts.
After the first two hours starring at the stars, the big heap of sand and at the stars again, it had simply become too boring. And they were the T-tower's official unofficial couple, so they decided they might as well spend it together.
This entailed that Starfire exited her own cockpit and that her leader opened the hatch to his own for her – in outer space. A completely harmless maneuver for the Tamaranian, but in Robin's case it was reckless.
It wasn't suicidal: all you had to do was try not to hold your breath as the pressure in the cabin rapidly decreased, and not pass out as the blood boiled in your veins like a million detonating nanites and your eyes and lungs tried to eject themselves through your orifices. Robin thought he heard Bruce's stoic-smug voice somewhere in his world of pain: "I'm Batman, and I can breathe in space."
Then he could feel her lips pressing against his own as blessed air filled the re-enclosed compartment.
Hiding in the shadow of tomorrow's target, two aliens each from different solar systems bundled up around each other like plastic wrapper carelessly thrown into the interstellar roadside, free of gravity.
This intimacy was a pleasure Robin had only recently become acquainted with, enjoyed intensively, and almost desperately wanted to share with his beloved orange-skinned girl. He wanted to give himself completely to this beautiful creature that so deserved his undivided attention, but unfortunately his brain refused to give in and wouldn't stop working in its detached analyses.
That's why he noted what a physiological marvel it was that something so light and soft could be so resilient, that such delicate hands could rip steel beams apart. It deserved questioning why Starfire always unintentionally crushed anybody with her affective hugs, but could be so gentle in less platonic embraces. He guessed she was being careful.
He also noted that he was being reckless again. If something surprised his teammate and she made any sudden movements now, he might well be mutilated in the process. Right now, he was in essence a glass figurine at the mercy of a gentle giant; an emasculating thought, but nevertheless accurate in its assessment of their difference in strength.
Was this danger what aroused him so much his heart beat like it rarely did outside of live combat, what caught the breath in his throat and sent his desires spinning into dark corners – was it this hazard rather than the body of a nubile Aphrodite under his bare fingers? Had that one-eyed madman been so correct when he'd estimated the extreme lengths Robin would go to for a better adrenaline high?
And there also was the question of why Starfire's kisses always were so… chaste; shallow.
Robin tried again to lose himself in her warmth, but invariably speculated that a race that learned new languages through lip contact would have to place little romantic sentiment in such a thing, and therefore would not be the most imaginative in this area.
By unspoken agreement, the two kept to only kissing and touching. Frequent danger to their lives or not, they were both to smart to risk anything: That, their friends were sleeping only meters away, and they were possibly already disturbing Raven's sleep, receptive as she was. But for what they could do, Robin wanted to get the most out of it.
Starfire's eyes flashed wide open and she instinctively pulled away. "Robin, what are you doing?!" she whispered, alarmed.
"Just trust me," he said, pulled her back to him, and tried again. "Uhmm… open your mouth," Robin said, and immediately regretted it as he suddenly felt thoroughly disgusted with himself – old and dirty. But she did as he said and seemed to grasp the idea.
Tentatively they probed and tested each other, often splitting apart to giggle and breathe and then dive at each other more wildly than before, and soon they finally stopped worrying about the other Titans. Robin noticed that Starfire was getting warmer in his arms, which was new, but he took it as a sign that she liked this, and also took his cape and T-shirt off.
He found another thing he loved about Starfire, on top of all the many gorgeous things there was to love about Starfire; her tongue. It was the most delicate, slender tongue one could imagine; so soothing he would rather have it lick his wounds than bind them in bandages ever again, and its soft smoothness tempted him to bite it. It even tasted good – really good. And it was surprisingly long.
He had thought it was impossible to lick someone's oral cavity. It wasn't that he didn't like it; it was just a little surprising. She warmed up even more.
It was especially surprising when her tongue plunged all the way through his mouth and downwards. He didn't panic – he was too damn professional for panic. Starfire wasn't going to hurt him. It was just a little freaky; he had his mouth full of alien tongue and saliva and it was getting pretty hard to breathe.
He couldn't pull out of her embrace, tried to convey this to Starfire with a few nudges, but she didn't respond. Her eyes were glazed over and she was breathing very heavily through her nose, and was rubbing herself against him pretty hard. With her strength this actually hurt, and Robin found himself having to work hard not to get injured, flowing with her forceful movements.
And still that tongue seemed to push deeper into his throat and what he could only guess was his esophagus. In the midst of several ineffective punches to Starfire's gut and a few futile attempts at the alarm button to wake the others, Robin found himself thinking that this could have been avoided with a few precautionary questions of Tamaranian mating. He estimated he could hold his breath for another ninety seconds.
Something new happened. It forced Starfire's mouth to open wider and his too. Her body temperature body rose another few degrees to the point where it almost burnt Robin, but at that moment, he froze.
Starfire's tongue was bulging. And the bulge was moving from her mouth into her lover's.
Several different mechanics of sexual nature shot through his brain in an instant and left one unforgettable image from a sci-fi horror classic burned into the retina of his inner eye.
That's when he panicked. He bit down hard on the deceptively soft but tough-as-nails tongue, kicked against the control panel in the hopes of hitting a big, red button to shake his friends out of their dreams and smashed his fists into his girlfriend's temples to no effect. The bulge forced itself into his throat, stretching it. He could only gurgle in lack of air for a real scream and slap his hands against the clear dome over him, even as he knew the sound would never carry through the empty space outside his cockpit.
He hoped his bad vibes were giving Raven nightmares: if it didn't wake her up, it'd be a fitting punishment for sleeping while he was being date-raped right next to her.